


Home is in your arms, Safety is under your wings

by AnnaTheHank



Series: A/C/G ot3 [30]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Confessions, Conflicting Feelings, Cuddles, M/M, Multi, Thank God We're Alive Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28073406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTheHank/pseuds/AnnaTheHank
Summary: Crowley was safe, far away from Hastur's plans. Aziraphale and Gabriel wish to love him and love on him. But some conflicting feelings about recent events might get in the way
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: A/C/G ot3 [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1424962
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	Home is in your arms, Safety is under your wings

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> So I know I've kind of dropped off the face of the planet recently. Work has stolen all my spoons 😭 But I knew I needed to post something soon and this has been sitting 80% finished in my documents for a while now so I stole some spoons back and finished it <3
> 
> It's only rated M because spoons do not, apparently, allocate for sexyness. But there's a chance in the future I'll come back and get into the goods. (ya know, after I finish the honeymoon chapters and write part 1 from the two other points of view 🤣)
> 
> But for now have some *gasp* character development!

They materialized in a room that Gabriel was not familiar with. It was modern, sleek, a half tone of gray in stone slabs. Plants that had once flourished sat huddled in corners, turning a bit brown at the ends. He swore they looked like they perked up as they arrived. 

“Where are we?” he asked. His muscles tensed, eyes scanning for a fight in unfamiliar territory. 

“M’ flat,” Crowley said with a mumble. Aziraphale had him held tight, face squished against his shoulder. Crowley struggled softly to escape. “You can let go now,” he said. “We’re safe.”

“No,” Aziraphale said, holding him closer if that was even possible. “I can’t.”

Crowley sighed and accepted his fate, wrapping his arms back around Aziraphale and holding him close. 

“I didn’t realize you had your own place,” Gabriel said. He walked around the space, glancing at all the things that made up Crowley. It didn’t _feel_ like Crowley, was the problem. But maybe that was because he was so used to associating Crowley with the bookshop. 

“Haven’t used it in a while,” Crowley said. “Good for storage though.”

Gabriel nodded and placed a hand against the wall. He could feel the protection in place, similar to the bookshop, if not a little outdated. But if no one else knew they were here, it would work all the same. As Crowley said, they were safe. 

“I’ll go to the bookshop,” Gabriel announced. “I’ll make sure it gets fixed up.”

“You’re not leaving,” Crowley and Aziraphale said at the same time.

Gabriel stared at them and his heart did ache to go join in, to wrap them up in his embrace and make them feel safe. But there was much too much work to be done. Their home was breached. And they hadn’t heard from Raphael if he was alright. _He_ hadn’t heard if Sandalphon was alright. They didn’t know if Hastur was out plotting his next move.

“Shh,” Aziraphale said, even though Gabriel had not spoken a word. Aziraphale held one hand out to him. “All of that in good time.” Gabriel took that hand and let himself get pulled up to them. “For now, we are all together and safe. And that is worth celebrating.”

“Celebrating?” Gabriel asked. He wrapped his arms around the both of them, closing his eyes at their warm and heavy presence. 

Crowley wiggled a little between them. “Oh I know what you’re planning,” he said with a chuckle. 

“No, my dear,” Aziraphale pulled back a bit, bringing one hand up to cup Crowley’s chin, “I don’t think you do.”

Crowley gulped and pushed back against Gabriel. “Haven’t I suffered enough?” 

“No suffering,” Aziraphale said. He turned Crowley’s head to the side and placed soft kisses down his jaw line. “Just love.”

Crowley huffed and muttered, “same difference.”

Gabriel, too, wanted to love him. So he bent his neck and kissed over Crowley’s shirt, where he knew Aziraphale’s freckle was waiting just below it. 

“Listen, I’m all for ‘thank goodness we’re alive sex’ but we gotta do it right. This is a celebration after all. It should be an event!”

“And it will, my dear.” Aziraphale continued to kiss, soft and slow, dipping down Crowley’s neck. “An event of the highest order.”

Crowley groaned and tried to wiggle out again. But Gabriel had anticipated that, increasing his own hold to keep him still. This was one of those times, he decided, where Crowley would just not get his way. 

“Let’s go to the bed room,” Aziraphale said. “It’ll be much more comfortable there.”

“Do I at least get to walk there myself?” Crowley asked, a scowl on his face. Harsh, yet fond.

Aziraphale hummed, then decided, “No.” He placed his hands back around Crowley’s waist and lifted, pulling Crowley’s feet only a few inches off the ground. Gabriel let go, slightly astonished by Aziraphale’s display of strength. He knew Aziraphale was strong, but he rarely showed it like this. 

“This is ridiculous, angel,” Crowley said. But his face was tinged pink and he was wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s neck as he carried him. 

Gabriel trailed after them, hands at the ready to support if needed. But they were not needed. Aziraphale nudged the door open with his foot and stepped in. The bed, Gabriel decided, was the most Crowley thing about this place. Dark red and black, satin, large and plush. That was him alright. 

“Here we are,” Aziraphale said. He deposited Crowley on the bed and climbed up on him, holding him down in a straddle. “Now,” he rolled up his sleeves, “let’s get to work.”

-

Crowley didn’t really believe in time, as a construct. He knew it existed. He knew it passed. But he never really cared about it, unless he had a meeting with Aziraphale. Now however, pinned between Aziraphale and Gabriel, stars bursting behind his closed eyes as his...fifth?...orgasm hit him, he was all too interested in it. He kept track of it in the ticks of his alarm clock that had gotten knocked to the floor sometime before number three. He counted how long they let him rest between shifts (increasing over time). He counted how long they each were at it before Crowley’s body could no longer take the stimulation (Gabriel longer originally, but now Aziraphale’s expertise was coming into play). And he counted how long since they started, how long they had gone without either of them coming themselves (too damn long). 

“Are you done yet?” Crowley asked, his own voice strange to him, hoarse and rough. 

“Not quite,” Aziraphale whispered in his ear. It had been Gabriel’s turn, and Aziraphale was laid next to Crowley, gently running fingers over his face. Just after orgasm number two, Crowley had closed his eyes and refused to open them since. “Would you like some water? Or wine?”

“No,” Crowley sneered. He didn’t need to be _pampered_.

“Some tea perhaps?” Aziraphale nipped gently at Crowley’s jaw. 

“Just get on with it already.” Crowley rolled over, arm flopping against the empty mattress where he had assumed Gabriel would be. He nearly opened his eyes to find him. 

Aziraphale shuffled up to him and kissed at his back, fingers moving to his sides, pressing softly in a gentle massage. “You need time to rest, my love.”

“Do not,” Crowley argued. He’s done far more strenuous things for much longer a time than this. 

He heard the door creak open, familiar steps returning to them. “I brought you some water,” Gabriel announced. 

Crowley groaned and buried his face in the pillow. 

“Leave it on the table,” Aziraphale instructed. “He might want it later.”

“Will not,” Crowley mumbled. 

Gabriel did as he was told and then the bed dipped before Crowley as Gabriel settled back down next to him. Aziraphale resumed kissing over his shoulders and Gabriel slid closer, giving Crowley’s neck a similar treatment. 

Crowley grumbled and turned on his stomach, hiding as much of himself as he could in the sheets. This only invited more of their touches, Gabriel taking over on his shoulders as Aziraphale got to his knees and started his massage over in earnest. 

Crowley huffed and kicked his legs a bit in protest. They were being much too soft with him. Too kind. Too loving and understanding. It was his fault. He hadn’t listened to their warnings, had gone off alone, had gone home alone, had gotten himself taken. He put them in danger and he didn’t deserve this. He deserved to be punished. 

And then he realized: this was his punishment. But he didn’t want it. He wanted to be punished in a way that made sense. In a way that _hurt_. This? This was cruel and unusual torture. And for as much as he deserved it, he didn’t think he could handle it another second. 

The word built up in his stomach and rose through his chest. He caught it, just at the back of his throat and tried to hold it in, tried to shove it back down. But Aziraphale pressed along his spine _just so_ and Crowley couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“Enchilada,” he whispered. And then he bit his own tongue for good measure. 

Aziraphale stopped instantly, and Gabriel a few seconds after. 

“What did you say, dear?” Aziraphale asked. 

Oh good. They hadn’t heard. “Nothing,” Crowley lied.

Aziraphale huffed and then got up. Crowley flipped over, a rush of panic forcing his eyes open. He had been counting the hours but it was still a little surprising to see the soft, early morning light filtering into the room. He lifted himself up on shaking elbows. “I didn’t say anything,” Crowley called after Aziraphale, who was stepping into the bathroom. “Really!”

He heard water starting to run and he groaned, flopping back to the mattress, eyes closed once more. This was the last thing he needed. More love and attention. Didn’t they understand that was what he was trying to avoid this whole time?

Gabriel stayed on the bed, but not touching. He didn’t say anything and for that Crowley was thankful. Aziraphale returned a few seconds later and slid his hands under Crowley’s body. Well, he certainly wasn’t going to go easily. 

Aziraphale tutted as Crowley went slack, doing nothing to help in his being carried. If they weren’t going to let him walk, he wasn’t going to use his muscles at all. 

But, of course, Aziraphale was more than capable. He lifted Crowley off the bed and carried his gangly body into the bathroom. The water was nice and hot, perhaps a bit more than he was used to, as Aziraphale preferred a slightly cooler temperature. 

Crowley was lowered into the tub and then kissed on the forehead. “We’ll be right outside when you’re ready,” Aziraphale whispered. He ran a hand through Crowley’s hair and kissed him again. “Take however long you need.”

Crowley slid down, letting the water come up to cover half his face. He stayed like that until he heard the door close. He peeked an eye open and glanced around. He really was alone. The room was dark but lit with a few candles. A wave of complimentary scents overcame him. His body relaxed, the warmth of the water soothing his aches and pains. And not just the physical ones. 

He knew he should be feeling guilty. He had stopped their fun. He hadn’t been able to handle his own punishment for being so foolish. But he didn’t feel any of that. He didn’t really seem to feel much of anything. Just calm. Like his brain could stop for a second. Like his could just float in the water and exist without having to actually _be_. 

It was nice. And he did just that until, it seemed, all his woes floated away. 

-

Aziraphale was concerned, staring at the bathroom door. He wished desperately for it to open. But he knew that Crowley needed his space. Needed his time. He just hoped it wouldn't be too long. 

“You can go if you’d like,” Aziraphale said, giving Gabriel’s hand a soft squeeze. “He could be a while.”

Gabriel shook his head, also staring at the door. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Aziraphale smiled and shifted closer. They sat against the headboard, waiting and worrying. 

“Are you sure _he’s_ okay alone?” Gabriel asked. 

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes. Sometimes it’s best to let him be, to process things.” Aziraphale’s hand flexed against Gabriel’s, betraying his own worry. “He’ll be alright. With time.”

Gabriel looked over at him. “We didn’t hurt him, did we?”

Aziraphale tore his gaze away from the door and smiled at him. “No. He may have hurt himself with all his thinking. He does that sometimes.”

“How do you get him to stop thinking?” Gabriel asked. 

“A little aromatherapy usually does the trick,” Aziraphale answered. “That, and time.”

“I’ll be here with you,” Gabriel said, squeezing Aziraphale’s hand. “However long it takes.”

Aziraphale smiled at him and leaned over for a kiss. But, as it turned out, their wait wasn’t very long. 

“Sorry,” Crowley mumbled. He was standing in the doorway, one of Aziraphale’s robes wrapped around his body, stolen from the bookshop. He had his hands deep in the pockets and he was looking down at his feet, shuffling them a bit. 

“Please do not apologize for telling us what you need,” Aziraphale whispered back. He longed desperately to wrap Crowley back up in his embrace and kiss and love all over him. But he was acutely aware that Crowley needed something else right now, and he couldn’t be selfish.

Crowley shook his head and walked to the foot of the bed. “Not about that.” 

“It wasn’t your fault you got kidnapped either,” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley winced a bit and scrunched his face up. He didn’t believe him. “Not that either.”

“Why are you sorry, then?” Gabriel asked. Crowley looked up at them, a sort of vulnerability on his face that was new, even to Aziraphale. And it took all his strength not to run over and hug him. 

“I feel bad,” Crowley said, then winced at his own words. “Guilty. I…” his jaw shook a little. “I shouldn’t have killed him.”

“Killed who?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley’s voice was soft and low and strange. And Aziraphale felt a little out of sorts. “Ligur.”

“It was self defense,” Gabriel offered. But Aziraphale could tell something else was at play here. Crowley had not expressed a remorse in killing Ligur before. 

“Hastur…” Crowley sighed, still looking down. “I didn’t know…” He groaned, scrunching his face up and rubbing at his eyes. “If anyone took you from me I’d never recover,” he said. “I feel bad for him. And I _shouldn’t_.”

“Oh, darling.” Aziraphale couldn’t take it anymore. He was done being understanding. He got to his knees and crawled to the end of the bed, pulling Crowley into a hug.

“I should hate him. I _do_ hate him. He’s evil.” Crowley shook in Aziraphale’s arms and Gabriel slowly inched his way closer. “He hurt you. He tried to kill you.” Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and buried his face in his chest. “But when he was talking...I felt sad for him. I wanted to...to...to help.” Crowley shook his head and held Aziraphale tighter, knocking the wind right out of him.

“My dear, I understand completely.” Aziraphale smoothed down Crowley’s hair, still a bit wet near the bottom from the bath. He looked over at Gabriel, who seemed to be toying with the idea of reaching out to them. “I felt the same way when a certain someone showed up on our doorstep nearly a year ago.”

Gabriel’s attention turned up to him, and Aziraphale smiled. He had been conflicted, of course. He should have hated Gabriel. Should have wanted to hurt him. For a few days, he did. But he had seen someone lost and hurting, and it wasn’t in him to turn that away.

“But you’re an angel,” Crowley said. “That’s in your blood, to love and forgive. Me? I’m a demon.”

“We’re made of the same stuff, aren’t we?” Aziraphale pulled back as much as he could be allowed and brought a hand up under Crowley’s chin. “Just because you think you can’t be forgiven, doesn’t mean you can’t do some of the forgiving yourself.”

Crowley glared at him and Aziraphale chuckled, kissing away the crease on his forehead. 

“You two should get some rest,” Gabriel said. “You look tired.”

Crowley relaxed against Aziraphale’s embrace and he had to admit he felt a little sleepy himself. 

“And you should probably get back to work,” Aziraphale said as he pulled Crowley onto the bed. He didn’t want Gabriel to leave, of course. But he understood all too well that he had to go. 

“Not yet,” Gabriel said. And his voice was soft in a way that was unusual. Both his husbands, it seemed, were not quite themselves that day. “I’ll stay here. Watch over you.”

Aziraphale laid back on the bed, Crowley still nestled in his arms. Gabriel helped get the blanket over him and Aziraphale sighed, happy and content, with the warm weight of his love on top of him. Gabriel sat next to them and the sound of feathers flapping through a storm filled the air as his wings came to rest over their bodies. Crowley let out a soft noise of appreciation, and Aziraphale watched in wonder at how the rising sun lit the feathers up just so.

He felt safe, more than he has in a long time. And he closed his eyes, confident that he would still be safe when next he woke.


End file.
